


Clean

by katzenjammerd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming Out, Friendship, alluding to Dean/Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 11:51:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17385968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katzenjammerd/pseuds/katzenjammerd
Summary: Charlie takes one look at him and says, “let’s go to a bar.”





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Post There’s No Place Like Home-ish

Charlie arrives in a flurry, battle-scarred but defiantly cheery.  Dean’s never know anyone like her.  He thinks it’s because she lives her life with such enthusiasm, whereas he… he feels like he’s living out of spite and duty.

The Mark it grates at him now.  It’s just getting too tough.  It’s timely she arrives, like an opportunity, like a chance to talk, to someone to be honest. To be clean.

Sammy’s too close.  They’re breathing down each other's necks in the bunker as it is.  And in the end, Sammy’s his little brother, still a gangly 12 year old.  Dean’s spent his life looking out for Sammy. Years go by, but Dean let that go.

As for Cas.. .he just can’t. It’s getting worse. Cas is barely in contact with him.  He knows he’s in contact with Sam and Dean worries what that means about him.  Is Dean too far gone,  his soul spoilt?  He must be difficult to deal with, especially for Castiel who had such faith.  His absence feels like a loss of faith, and Dean feels it keenly.

Charlie though. Charlie might get it, maybe. It’s not like he’s actually going to talk about it anyway.

Charlie takes one look at him and says, “let’s go to a bar.”

Ross is still serving when they pull up, but there are no obnoxious students slumming it tonight. Dean does the introductions, and winces internally at the look Charlie gives him, clearly registering Ross’s friendly look.  

“You and me need to have a bit of a heart to heart, i think, talk about a few things.” she says quietly, glancing at the Mark, and back at the bar.  He’d rather talk about the Mark.  It’s a little scary, even talking around it.

“Do I need to say it?” Dean asks.

“Have you ever said it?” she answers.

Dean’s quiet at that. He doesn’t have the words.  He’s never had the words.

They drink after that, talking about shit.  Charlie’s new larping group, her adventures in hacking, the hot waitress she hooked up with in Duluth.  It’s quiet in the bar, a good game of pool on and listenable music in the background.

“I wonder what my dad would have made of it?” he asks suddenly.  He didn’t mean to say it out loud and he’s startled at saying it.

It’s never been an issue before – the odd aberration from his usual MO, scratching an itch every once in a while. It wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t tell what’s his father’s response would have been but it wouldn’t have been … great. It would have soured things.

“What’s different now?” Charlie asks.

He already knows the answer. He thinks of the bone weariness and loneliness. He thinks of blue eyes.  He’s tired and frightened, the Mark's thrum of anger wearing him thin.

He wipes his eyes tiredly then covers his face, unable to look anywhere, not at Charlie, not at the other patrons, not at that fucking Mark.

“I never know your dad, so I can’t say.  But you’re here now and it looks like something you need to talk about with someone.

There’s another pause and she says, “Dean,” before reaching across the table to get him to take his hand away from his eyes.

“Let’s talk.”


End file.
